Blurb
It's been years since Olivia nearly drowned in Caldwell Beach, and after moving away, she's back for the summer to reconnect with old friends. However, not everything-or everyone-is the same. Her childhood best friend, Miles, is still sweet and carefree, but his older brother West is not. Disowned and working at the local garage, he's distanced himself from everyone, until Olivia accidentally uncovers the reason why. But as the two grow closer, strange things begin happening to Olivia. She can't stop seeing shadows and hearing voices, but as she slips into a downward spiral of obsessiveness and paranoia, she must fight to uncover the truth behind who is after her, and why.
Original (First 500)
Growing up in Caldwell Beach, there were rules hammered into our heads designed to keep us safe. Don't swim too far out into the ocean, or the undertow will pull you in. Don't climb trees if they extend over the water, because you'll fall with them if they break.
Like most little kids, I didn't listen. My friends and I swam deep into the Atlantic Ocean every chance we got and hoped someday we'd reach the spot where the sun sparkled on the horizon. We'd get tired before then, of course, and the waves would carry us back to the rocky Maine shore. But even when the undertow pushed and pulled at my feet, I was never scared -- a girl like me was made for the water. Sometimes I fantasized that if it did get me, it would carry me to the land of mermaids, right where I belonged.
But one rule was repeated so often, it became more of a superstitious warning: never, ever play on the cliffs. Especially the one by the lighthouse.
I obeyed that rule -- when I was in kindergarten, fifteen-year-old Samwell Ellis cracked his skull open as he scaled the cliff's edge, and our teacher told us a sea monster had taken him. Our town was small -- we believed no one died unless they were old or sick -- so it made sense a monster was responsible for the boy's death. The Ellis family then packed up and moved away, calling the town a curse, which fueled the legends and rumors that dominoed through my classroom.
It wasn't until I was old enough to question my parents that they finally told me the truth. Monsters didn't kill anyone; it was an accident brought on by teenage recklessness.
Even years later, that story still spiraled in my head; it was all I could think about as I gripped the flimsy rope fence, my toes only inches away from the cliff's edge. I wiggled them until the white rubber of my Vans moved. I'd heard you could get a better grip climbing rock without shoes, but only if your skin was strong enough to withstand the jagged edges. There's no way anyone's skin could be that thick.
Sure, teenage recklessness had killed Samwell Ellis in this very spot, but I wasn't a teenager -- I had just turned twelve. I clung to that fact, as if it would protect me.
Cool wind licked my bare arms and legs. The ocean sloshed fifty feet below, inky and terrifying, and jaw-like rocks lined the curve of the cliff. One wrong move and I would fall. My body would become a waterlogged lump of flesh and disappear into the ocean, rot away like the whale corpses they showed us on Planet Earth in class. Maybe a shark would eat me, or maybe I'd become food for a school of fish.
The thought was almost enough to make me turn back.
"Liv, stop," Miles said from behind me. "Seriously, we're going to get in trouble!"
His blue-green eyes came into focus. The lighthouse faded into the churning clouds. Miles's curls whipped around his face as the thunder growled, and light rain began to sprinkle onto my arms.
Miles is right, this is stupid.
But then Faye Hendrick's face flared in my mind and said I was way too chicken to complete the cliff challenge. Faye had done it as some sort of initiation into being accepted by the older kids, and now everyone in our class thought she had more guts than me.
Screw that. All I had to do was climb down the cliff, reach the one rock called checkpoint, and climb back up. Piece of cake.
"Your sister's a jerk, Miles. Take a video. Don't worry, I'll be fine."
Miles whimpered as my bare knees sank into the cold, soggy grass. Icy rain pelted me until my skin was bumpy and purple, the veins on my hands, thin blue snakes. A deep breath and I climbed over the edge. Concentrated adrenaline coursed through me, but the rocks, though slick with water, kept me in place.
Breathe. You can do this; just breathe.
One step down. And another. I was just going to make it. Just a few more steps.
But right before checkpoint, my foot slipped -- and I fell.
Growing up in Caldwell Beach, there were rules hammered into our heads designed to keep us safe. Don't swim too far out into the ocean, or the undertow will pull you in. Don't climb trees if they extend over the water, because you'll fall with them if they break.
Like most little kids, I didn't listen. My friends and I swam deep into the Atlantic Ocean every chance we got and hoped someday we'd reach the spot where the sun sparkled on the horizon. We'd get tired before then, of course, and the waves would carry us back to the rocky Maine shore. But even when the undertow pushed and pulled at my feet, I was never scared -- a girl like me was made for the water. Sometimes I fantasized that if it did get me, it would carry me to the land of mermaids, right where I belonged.
But one rule was repeated so often, it became more of a superstitious warning: never, ever play on the cliffs. Especially the one by the lighthouse.
I obeyed that rule -- when I was in kindergarten, fifteen-year-old Samwell Ellis cracked his skull open as he scaled the cliff's edge, and our teacher told us a sea monster had taken him. Our town was small -- we believed no one died unless they were old or sick -- so it made sense a monster was responsible for the boy's death. The Ellis family then packed up and moved away, calling the town a curse, which fueled the legends and rumors that dominoed through my classroom.
It wasn't until I was old enough to question my parents that they finally told me the truth. Monsters didn't kill anyone; it was an accident brought on by teenage recklessness.
Even years later, that story still spiraled in my head; it was all I could think about as I gripped the flimsy rope fence, my toes only inches away from the cliff's edge. I wiggled them until the white rubber of my Vans moved. I'd heard you could get a better grip climbing rock without shoes, but only if your skin was strong enough to withstand the jagged edges. There's no way anyone's skin could be that thick.
Sure, teenage recklessness had killed Samwell Ellis in this very spot, but I wasn't a teenager -- I had just turned twelve. I clung to that fact, as if it would protect me.
Cool wind licked my bare arms and legs. The ocean sloshed fifty feet below, inky and terrifying, and jaw-like rocks lined the curve of the cliff. One wrong move and I would fall. My body would become a waterlogged lump of flesh and disappear into the ocean, rot away like the whale corpses they showed us on Planet Earth in class. Maybe a shark would eat me, or maybe I'd become food for a school of fish.
The thought was almost enough to make me turn back.
"Liv, stop," Miles said from behind me. "Seriously, we're going to get in trouble!"
His blue-green eyes came into focus. The lighthouse faded into the churning clouds. Miles's curls whipped around his face as the thunder growled, and light rain began to sprinkle onto my arms.
Miles is right, this is stupid.
But then Faye Hendrick's face flared in my mind and said I was way too chicken to complete the cliff challenge. Faye had done it as some sort of initiation into being accepted by the older kids, and now everyone in our class thought she had more guts than me.
Screw that. All I had to do was climb down the cliff, reach the one rock called checkpoint, and climb back up. Piece of cake.
"Your sister's a jerk, Miles. Take a video. Don't worry, I'll be fine."
Miles whimpered as my bare knees sank into the cold, soggy grass. Icy rain pelted me until my skin was bumpy and purple, the veins on my hands, thin blue snakes. A deep breath and I climbed over the edge. Concentrated adrenaline coursed through me, but the rocks, though slick with water, kept me in place.
Breathe. You can do this; just breathe.
One step down. And another. I was just going to make it. Just a few more steps.
But right before checkpoint, my foot slipped -- and I fell.
My Edit
"Liv, stop," Miles Hendrick said from behind me. "Remember Sam-"
"Miles!" I turned. Miles' curls whipped around his face as the thunder growled. "Are you trying to jinx me?"
When we were in kindergarten, fifteen-year-old Samwell Ellis cracked his skull open as he scaled the lighthouse cliff, and our teacher told us a sea monster had taken him. The Ellis family moved away soon after, calling the town a curse, which did nothing to dispute the legend.
Rain began to fall, light but icy. Miles didn't say anything but his blue-green eyes were worried. Churning fog swallowed the base of the lighthouse behind him. I sighed, turning back toward the cliff's edge.
Cool wind licked my bare arms and legs. The ocean sloshed fifty feet below, inky and terrifying, and jaw-like rocks lined the curve of the cliff. One wrong move and I would fall. My body would become a waterlogged lump of flesh and disappear into the ocean, rot away like the whale corpses they showed us on Planet Earth in class. Maybe a shark would eat me, or maybe sea monsters were real. Miles was right, this was stupid. I poised to turn back.
Faye Hendrick flashed in my mind, saying I was way too chicken to complete the cliff challenge. She had done it as some sort of initiation into being accepted by the older kids, and now everyone in our class thought she had more guts than me.
Screw that. All I had to do was climb down the cliff, reach the one rock everyone called Checkpoint, and then climb back up. Piece of cake. If Miles' sister could do it, so could I.
"Just take the video," I said over my shoulder.
I gripped the flimsy rope fence, the toes of my Vans only inches away from the cliff's edge. Miles didn't argue with me anymore, but I could hear him whimper as my bare knees sank into the cold, soggy grass.
I didn't look up at him, I didn't dare, or I'd lose my nerve. I took a deep breath and climbed over the edge. Adrenaline coursed through me, but the rocks, though slick, were firm footholds. My fingers gripped the rock face as though my life depended on it.
Breathe. You can do this; just breathe.
One step down. Another. Another. I was going to make it. A few more steps.
One step away from Checkpoint, my foot slipped. My freezing fingers couldn't hold my weight. I fell.
(Original word count: ~722 → Edited: ~416)
"Liv, stop," Miles Hendrick said from behind me. "Remember Sam-"
"Miles!" I turned. Miles' curls whipped around his face as the thunder growled. "Are you trying to jinx me?"
When we were in kindergarten, fifteen-year-old Samwell Ellis cracked his skull open as he scaled the lighthouse cliff, and our teacher told us a sea monster had taken him. The Ellis family moved away soon after, calling the town a curse, which did nothing to dispute the legend.
Rain began to fall, light but icy. Miles didn't say anything but his blue-green eyes were worried. Churning fog swallowed the base of the lighthouse behind him. I sighed, turning back toward the cliff's edge.
Cool wind licked my bare arms and legs. The ocean sloshed fifty feet below, inky and terrifying, and jaw-like rocks lined the curve of the cliff. One wrong move and I would fall. My body would become a waterlogged lump of flesh and disappear into the ocean, rot away like the whale corpses they showed us on Planet Earth in class. Maybe a shark would eat me, or maybe sea monsters were real. Miles was right, this was stupid. I poised to turn back.
Faye Hendrick flashed in my mind, saying I was way too chicken to complete the cliff challenge. She had done it as some sort of initiation into being accepted by the older kids, and now everyone in our class thought she had more guts than me.
Screw that. All I had to do was climb down the cliff, reach the one rock everyone called Checkpoint, and then climb back up. Piece of cake. If Miles' sister could do it, so could I.
"Just take the video," I said over my shoulder.
I gripped the flimsy rope fence, the toes of my Vans only inches away from the cliff's edge. Miles didn't argue with me anymore, but I could hear him whimper as my bare knees sank into the cold, soggy grass.
I didn't look up at him, I didn't dare, or I'd lose my nerve. I took a deep breath and climbed over the edge. Adrenaline coursed through me, but the rocks, though slick, were firm footholds. My fingers gripped the rock face as though my life depended on it.
Breathe. You can do this; just breathe.
One step down. Another. Another. I was going to make it. A few more steps.
One step away from Checkpoint, my foot slipped. My freezing fingers couldn't hold my weight. I fell.
(Original word count: ~722 → Edited: ~416)
Critique
Miles whimpered as my bare knees sank into the cold, soggy grass. Icy rain pelted me until my skin was bumpy and purple, the veins on my hands, thin blue snakes. A deep breath and I climbed over the edge. Concentrated adrenaline coursed through me, but the rocks, though slick with water, kept me in place.
Characterization
The characterization is also solid. From this short excerpt, we get that Olivia is brave, competitive, and focused. She doesn't belittle Miles' fear, and she almost turns back because of her own fear.
My body would become a waterlogged lump of flesh and disappear into the ocean, rot away like the whale corpses they showed us on Planet Earth in class.
Conflict/Tension
Final Thoughts
It's rare to find a prologue being used so effectively. Since the main story takes place years after the summer Olivia "drowned", it's smart to give us the drowning up front, without making us wait for a flashback or something. It's a great intro to Olivia's character at age twelve so that we can immediately compare her with her aged up character, and, frankly, it's just smart to start the story on a really exciting scene.
The author does spend a lot of time setting up the danger of the ocean through rumination. The writing is fine, but it makes the story feel more philosophical and ruminative, whereas I think the intention of the scene is to be as suspenseful and exciting as possible.
That said, I like that the kids are written as believable twelve-year-olds without dumbing down the writing. Olivia in particular, feels like a specific, young, person. Between the excerpt and the blurb, this is a really promising start to a story.
